The Pez Conspiracy
by QuMerc
Summary: Even a Sentinel and his Guide need a break. Oneshot. Rated T for language and suggestive situations.


Disclaimer: All characters belong to Pet Fly and UPN.

* * *

The Pez Conspiracy

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click.

Jim looked up from the computer screen, puzzled.

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click.

The Sentinel tilted his head up as if looking for something in the space above him. In actuality, he was focusing his hearing on the noise which had distracted him. Slowly, he turned to face his partner who was studying a textbook.

"Sandburg? What are you doing?" Jim asked curiously.

Blair looked up from his book and blinked owlishly behind his glasses. "Huh? What am I doing? What does it look like I'm doing? It's called reading, Jim." The anthropologist glanced back down at his book.

"Smartass," Jim muttered. "I know you're reading. What I want to know is what is that noise."

Blair marked his place with a bookmark and sighed. Apparently, he wasn't going to get anymore reading done. "Man, I don't know what you're talking about. Aren't you supposed to be doing paperwork or something?"

"Or something," Jim groused. "I've already cleaned out my inbox. I hate to say this, Chief, but I wish something would happen. I'm tired of just sitting here."

"Don't say that, man. It's bad karma," Blair returned. "I know things have been kind of slow, but that's a good thing, right? Why don't you ask Simon for the rest of the day off."

The detective shook his head. "You just don't ask for a day off. At least not without some notice."

"Oh, come _on_." Blair rolled his eyes. "It's not like you don't deserve one. Simon is bound to understand that even the great Detective Ellison needs a break."

"That's true," Jim agreed. He glanced at his captain's office and saw the man sitting behind his desk on the phone. "But if he can stick it out, so can I."

Blair looked incredulous. "This is a competition thing? That makes absolutely no sense. You're both bored. Not to mention tired. One of you should get a break. Might as well be you."

Feeling slightly uncomfortable, Jim shifted in his seat. "It's not really a competition, Chief. It's hard to explain. It's more out of...loyalty?" He shook his head again, aware that he wasn't clarifying himself too well. "I--He's setting the example. I'm following it."

Blair continued to look at him strangely. Finally, he just shrugged and picked up his book again. "Whatever you say, Jim," he murmured. "It must be a military thing."

Jim smiled. "Yeah, maybe." He focused on the screen in front of him and decided to move the red three on top of the black four. Maybe he'd actually win this hand of Solitaire.

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click.

This time, Jim's head swiveled sharply around. He stared long and hard at his partner who seemed oblivious.

"Okay, Sandburg, what the hell is that?" The Sentinel growled.

The look Blair bestowed upon him was one of innocence. Jim wasn't fooled one bit. "What are you up to?"

"Jim, I'm not sure what you're talking about. I think it's just paranoia. Or maybe you're so bored you're making up things to investigate." The younger man smiled tolerantly at him. "Go on back to your game. The day's just beginning."

"I know," Jim replied absently. Then his eyes narrowed. "Don't try to change the subject. I know you too well. What game are _you_ playing?"

Blair glanced furtively around the room to see if anyone was actually paying attention to them. His eyes drifted over to the captain's door. Banks wasn't even looking in their direction. Finally, his gaze settled upon the exasperated detective and he smiled slyly. "Guess I can't keep anything from you. You gotta promise me, though, that you can't say a word. Okay?"

It was Jim's turn to roll his eyes. "You accuse me of making up things to investigate because I'm bored. I think you're being secretive for the same reason. Cut the cloak and dagger bullshit and tell me what's going on in that devious mind of yours."

Eyes darting once more around the bullpen, Blair slowly eased his right hand into his pants packet. "You better promise, Jim."

The detective sighed, "I promise. What have you got, Chief?"

Carefully, the anthropologist removed his clenched fist from his pocket. Keeping his hand hidden, he showed the object to Jim.

Jim's brow wrinkled. "Is that--"

"A Pez dispenser," Blair finished for him. "It's actually a Halloween one. A glow in the dark pumpkin head."

"I can see that, Chief," Jim said dryly. "What I want to know is what are you doing with it? And why do you insist on making that god-awful noise?"

Blair grinned, "I found it on your desk this morning. Isn't it kind of cool? I love these things, always have."

"It figures," Jim muttered.

"Anyway," Blair ignored the remark and continued. "It gave me an idea."

"Oh, Lord help us," Jim let out a melodramatic sigh.

Blair frowned and slapped the Sentinel on the arm with his free hand. "Cut it out. You'll love this. Trust me."

"I was afraid you were going to say that," Jim sighed again. "Okay, out with it. What's the idea?"

Lowering his voice slightly Blair replied, "Look, all I need for you to do is tune out the noise and play along. Okay? Just follow my lead and everything should work out fine."

"I don't know, Chief." Jim looked skeptical. "I'm not sure I like the sound of this."

"Like I said, man," Blair's eyes twinkled with mischief. "Trust me."

"I hope I don't regret this," Jim muttered, "but okay. We'll play it your way, Chief."

"Cool," Blair replied enthusiastically. "Just remember to tune out the sound. I wouldn't want to drive you crazy."

"I'm not touching that one, Sandburg," Jim said and there was a smile in his voice. "Way too easy."

Blair gave a long suffering sigh. "Just go back to your card game and watch and learn."

Jim nodded and turned back to the screen. After a few minutes wasted staring at the cards on the monitor, he cursed. With no more moves left, he dealt himself a fresh hand and began all over again.

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click.

The Sentinel had had every intention of blocking out the sound, but couldn't because he had been waiting for it. It was a case of seeing pink elephants when he was told not to. He resisted the urge to turn to his friend again and question him further.

Jim was saved from the temptation as Simon walked by his desk on the way to the break room. "Hey, Captain. How's it going?"

"Not too bad," Simon replied. "I'm--"

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click.

The noise cut Banks off and he looked around for the annoying sound. "What's that noise?"

Blair looked up at him. "What noise, Simon?" He asked innocently.

Simon gave him an exasperated look and turned to Jim. "You heard it, didn't you, Jim?"

Jim frowned, "Heard what, sir?"

Simon's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Don't give me that, Ellison. If I heard the noise then I _know _you heard it, too."

The detective frowned and shook his head. "Sorry, sir. I don't hear anything unusual." There. That really wasn't a lie, was it? The clicking Pez dispenser was no longer strange to him now that he knew his partner had one.

"Look, Ellison, I know I heard--" Simon shook his head. "Never mind. I'm going to get a snack. I'll be back soon." With that, he strode out of the bullpen.

Jim turned to his companion. "Is this part of your idea, Chief?"

The other man nodded. "Yeah, just give me a little more time."

Before Ellison could reply, Banks came striding back into the bullpen. "That was quick, Simon," he observed mildly.

"I forgot some change," The captain replied.

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click.

Banks stopped abruptly and turned to face the duo. "Okay, out with it. What the hell is that noise?"

The look on Blair's face was both one of innocence and concern. "Simon, what noise are you talking about? Can you describe it?"

"Can I describe it," Simon replied a little sarcastically. "Of course I can describe it. It's a click, click, click sound. I know at least one of you heard it that time." He gazed pointedly at the Sentinel.

"Sorry, Captain," Jim said, "I still don't know what you're talking about."

"Fine, whatever. It's not important." Banks moved on toward his office. Jim could still hear him muttering as he grabbed some quarters from his desk drawer. "Damn Sentinels and their selective hearing. I _know_ he heard that."

Jim flashed him a grin as Simon walked passed.

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Clickclickclickclickclickclick.

Banks whirled around. "That's it!" His voice thundered across the bullpen. "I've had enough. What the _hell_ is that noise?"

There was dead silence as all the Major Crimes' detectives in attendance stared at him. Uncertainly, Henry Brown spoke up, "What--"

"Don't even say it, Brown, don't you even say it!" Banks growled as he stomped over to Jim's desk. He towered over both his men as he ordered everyone back to work. "Okay, you two, out with it. Which one of you is making that racket?" His voice took on a menacing quality as he looked at Blair.

The anthropologist looked surprised. "Why are you looking at me, Simon? It could just as easily be Jim making this alleged noise."

Banks glanced at his detective who was currently glaring at Sandburg. "No, it's not something Jim would do. Now out with it. What is it that you're hiding?" He leaned forward, planting his palms on Ellison's desk.

Sheepishly, Blair held out the toy. "It's a Pez dispenser," he explained. "You flick the head and candy pops out. I just don't have any more candy. Rafe ate it all this morning."

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click.

"They're so cool," Blair continued playing with the toy as he warmed to his subject. His eyes were alight with fun. Click. Click. Click. "I could play with this for hours."

Incredulously, Banks turned to Ellison. "And you're putting up with this?"

Jim gazed calmly back at his captain. "Simon, it's nothing to get worked up about," he said mildly. "He's just having fun with his little glow in the dark head."

Blair snickered and Jim's lips twitched.

"I'll give you a little head," Simon growled. "Now,--"

Both Sentinel and Guide whooped with laughter.

"Oh my god, oh my god. I can't believe you said that, Simon. Oh, man. My side hurts now. I can't breathe." Blair continued to laugh as he clasped his arms around his middle as if to keep himself together.

"Thanks, Simon," Jim wiped at the tears at the corner of his eyes. He was laughing quietly now. "I didn't realize how badly I needed to laugh until now."

Banks looked confused and still a little angry. "What did I say?"

This sent the other two men into gales of laughter again. Finally, Blair took a deep breath and explained, "You--you," Chuckle, "you told Jim, 'I'll give you a--" Laugh.

"Captain," Jim continued when it seemed as if his partner couldn't. "You said, 'I'll give you a little head.' And I gotta admit, I'm flattered." He laughed again as his roommate heard the last line and nearly fell out of his chair, giggling.

"Stop it right now, Ellison," Simon growled, "unless you want me to shove that Pez dispenser somewhere where you'll never find it."

Jim and Blair sobered immediately, although the younger man still chuckled now again.

The captain of Major Crimes stood up to his full height of 6'4 and placed his hands on his hips. "Get the hell out of here. Both of you. I don't wanna see you're ugly faces until Monday morning. Got that? Hit the road," he ordered in a low, rumbling voice.

Blair exchanged glances with his Sentinel and stood up. "Yes, sir, captain, sir. We're out of here. Right, Jim?"

"Uh, yeah, right, Chief," Jim followed his partner's lead. "See you in a few days, Captain."

"No earlier," Simon growled.

Both nodded and walked out of the bullpen. At the elevator, Blair grinned, "See? I told you to trust me. Got us a three-day weekend. How's that for an idea?"

Jim returned the smile. "I have to admit, Chief, I wasn't sure what you were up to, but I'm glad we got the time off. Want to catch a movie? I could use some down time."

Blair bounced on his toes enthusiastically as they boarded the elevator. "I'm up with that, man. Let's do it."

The elevator doors closed.

* * *

Back in his office, Simon chuckled. The whole situation had been rather funny. "Glad I planted that Pez dispenser on Jim's desk. Lord knows they both needed a break..." he murmured. Pleased with himself, he lifted the phone and called his son. "Daryl, what do you say we go to a movie tonight? You're choice."

Once again, order reigned on the seventh floor of the Cascade P.D.

The End


End file.
